


The Nicest Thing

by Nostalgia_101



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4475762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostalgia_101/pseuds/Nostalgia_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma and Killian are new writing recruits for the TV show Heroes & Villains and become close when they work on a script together (Writers' Room AU written for the Captain Swan AU week on Tumblr).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nicest Thing

Emma knew that her previous writing gig on a police procedural was going to be a whole world away from her new job, but spending half an hour debating the contents of an Evil Queen’s sleeping potion really drove the point home. Emma chewed on the lid of her pen, observing her colleagues in the _Heroes & Villains_ writers’ room in bemusement as they argued over the merits of ‘essence of toad’.

“It’s a staple for any witch’s brew,” David said matter-of-factly, slinging his arm over the back of his wife’s (and fellow writer) Mary Margaret’s chair.

“Emphasis on the _witch_ part, honey,” Mary Margaret replied, nudging his side with her elbow. “The Evil Queen has standards to uphold.”

“Exactly,” Regina agreed, red-painted nails tapping furiously on her laptop keys. “Why would she use such paltry ingredients when she has the whole enchanted world at her fingertips?”

Robin aimed a screwed up ball of paper at the trashcan in the corner, the missile effortlessly hitting its mark. “How about our Queen throws in ‘essence of an Adam Sandler film’? That’d be enough to put me to sleep.”

“As head writer I’m going to have to veto that,” said Regina, a smile curling up the corner of her mouth. “But how do we all feel about unicorn’s blood?”

“This job’s a bit different to the usual fare isn’t it?” an accented voice murmured near Emma’s ear, causing her to jolt in her seat. She turned to her right where the other new writer, Killian, was seated. They hadn’t spoken much since they were introduced to everyone earlier that morning, both too caught up in settling into their new location. But Emma was glad to see her own nervous bewilderment reflected in his blue eyes.

“You can say that again,” Emma breathed out quietly, giving him a small smile. “I’m still not sure how I got hired. Unless the White Knight wants to arrest someone for unicorn murder of course, then I’m your girl.”

Killian chuckled, scratching at the back of his ear. “I feel the same way, lass. Coming from a web series about internet piracy to this is quite a jump.”

“I guess if this new experience gets the creativity flowing again it’s a good thing though, huh?” she replied, twirling her pen around her fingers. “Or at least that’s what I remind myself when the doubt kicks in,” Emma added with a half-shrug.

“Aye,” Killian nodded, regarding her thoughtfully. “I’m all for that.” They jerked their heads around at the sound of a throat clearing.

“Would the new recruits like to share their ideas with the rest of the class?” asked Regina, the glimmer of amusement in her eyes betraying her stern voice.

Killian’s mouth gaped open, his eyes darting towards Emma. “Uh, we were just discussing the, uh, pros and cons of…”

“Ogre blood,” Emma quickly chimed in, pretending to glance down at her blank page for notes. “We thought unicorn blood was too pure, but ogre blood… wow, that would pack some punch, right?”

“Plus I’m sure it would taste quite terrible, like… an anchovy cocktail if you will,” Killian floundered, “which would just add to the nastiness of the concoction… and such.” He sank back into his seat, visibly cringing at himself.

There was silence before David spoke up. “Not bad for a first effort, guys,” he said, hiding a smirk. “But since we have to see the origin of the ingredients, it’s better if we don’t give the EP a heart attack with the CGI budget right at the start of season two.”

“Things will just be approved more easily if we attach a fake horn to a horse, is all,” Mary Margaret gently added, noticing Emma and Killian’s discomfort.

“Behold, the magical world of television,” Robin deadpanned.

“Anyway,” Regina said brusquely, clapping her hands together, “moving on. We need to figure out a way to introduce our new characters, Rapunzel and Flynn. Give me your ideas, people.”

Emma resumed chewing on her pen just as a notepad was being nudged into her arm by Killian. She glanced down at his neat scrawl, letting out at snort at his suggestion. _Perhaps they could sail into the kingdom on a fleet of fairy-tale anchovies?_ Grinning, she wrote her own note ( _Way too much CGI for that_ ) and passed it back. It wasn’t long before she had a reply. _Good point. We make quite the team, don’t you think, Swan?_ She turned her head to look at him, rolling her eyes good-naturedly at his grin, before tuning back into to the conversation around the table.

* * *

“Should Snow White steal dragon elixir or an enchanted sword from the Evil Queen for the first act break?” Emma questioned Killian, biting into her grilled cheese at the diner they’d found around the corner from the production office. She frowned, wiping at her chin with the back of her hand as he chuckled at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, slurping his soda through the straw. “It’s just that it’s only been a fortnight and already ‘dragon elixir’ and ‘enchanted sword’ have become strange staples of our vocabulary.”

She laughed, taking another bite of her food. “Don’t forget ‘Rumpelstiltskin’,” she said around a mouthful of cheese. “Or ‘ _true love’s kiss_ ’,” she scoffed.

Killian stole an onion ring from her plate, contemplating her words. “Surely that last one’s not quite as preposterous as the rest is it, Swan?” he said offhandedly.

“It is in my world,” she muttered, averting her eyes as Killian continued to gaze at her curiously. Emma picked up her milkshake, taking a long gulp. “You still didn’t answer my original question, Jones,” she said, filling in the silence. “What should Snow White do?”

“Well, a sword _would_ be more exciting,” he mused, smiling as Emma slapped his hand away from pilfering another onion ring. “That way we can have Snow engage in a fight with the guards on the way out, upping the action quota to keep the network happy.”

“Good point,” she grinned. “Not just a pretty face are you?”

“I’d be offended, but I _am_ devilishly handsome.”

“Shut up and drink your soda, idiot.”

* * *

Emma raced into the writers’ room, pleased to see that everyone was still waiting on Regina to arrive and she wasn’t the last one there (her kingdom for a car that didn’t break down weekly). She draped her bag across the back of her chair, smiling at Killian as he slid a takeout coffee cup her way.

“They already did the beverage run,” he explained. “Didn’t want you to miss out.”

“Thanks,” Emma smiled. “Decaf with soy, right?”

He frowned. “Decaf with… I thought you had…”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” she laughed; taking a careful mouthful so she wouldn’t burn her tongue. “Extra strong, crapload of sugar. Perfect.”

“Good to hear. When you said decaf I assumed you’d been taken over by a pod person,” he said. “Although it _has_ been almost a minute and you still haven’t inhaled the mini muffins,” he added in mock concern, leaning closer to look her square in the eyes. “Swan, if you’re in there and can hear me, blink twice.”

“Hey! I don’t _inhale_ things, thank you,” she exclaimed, pushing his face away while he laughed at her. “You’ll get a mini muffin where the sun doesn’t shine if you’re not careful.”

Killian brought his cup to his mouth with a grin. “You do flatter me so.” They were interrupted by fits of laughter coming from David and Robin, who were crowded around David’s laptop across the table.

“What’s so funny?” said Emma, licking a stray drop of coffee from her lips. “Please don’t tell me it’s another weird meme about breadsticks because I just don’t get it.”

“OK, one, you’re wrong, and if I had a purse right now I’d be shoving breadsticks into it and leaving,” said David, giving her a pointed look. “And two, you and Killian should probably see this,” he added with a smirk, turning the computer screen around to face them.

Killian pulled the laptop closer to them as they both peered at the _Heroes & Villains_ writers’ room Twitter feed. There was a photo of the two of them Mary Margaret had posted a couple of days ago, introducing them to the masses. Killian had his arm slung around Emma’s shoulders and they were both cracking up at David who had instructed them to “ _say anchovies_ ” just before it was taken.

“Is there something amiss I’m not aware of?” said Killian, throwing his colleagues a curious glance before looking back at the photo. “Did we not get a good reception?”

“Oh no, quite the opposite actually,” said Robin, biting back a grin. “Scroll down to the comments underneath, mate.”

Killian did as he was instructed. “What on earth does ‘shipping’ mean?” he puzzled, frowning further when he noticed Emma’s face flame red. “Are we talking in a maritime sense or is this a FedEx/Twitter marketing scheme I’m unaware of?”

“Oh my god, _neither_ you big, giant nerd,” Emma exclaimed, blocking out the sound of David and Robin’s laughter and Mary Margaret’s muffled giggling. Emma rolled her eyes at Killian’s continued impression of a human question mark. “Seriously? Have you been living under multiple rocks?”

“Clearly I have. I’m guessing whatever it means it isn’t good, however, judging by the parade of crimson splashed across your face.”

Mary Margaret cleared her throat. “Well usually we get people shipping characters on the show together,” said explained. “For example some fans enjoy the on-off relationship between the Evil Queen and her henchman, Charming.” She gestured towards the laptop with a smile. “And now it seems a few of them think you two look cute together.”

Killian’s confusion slowly faded into something resembling mischief. “They think Swan and I make a cute couple then, eh?” He turned to Emma, biting his bottom lip in amusement. “Does that make us like Brangelina?”

“Nice reference, up-with-the-times guy,” Emma said wryly, using her coffee cup as a shield to hide the renewal of warmth betraying her face.

“I believe ‘cute cinnamon rolls’ was the actual quote, just if you were interested,” David said with a casual shrug.

“That probably explains why Belle from the costume department was giving me these weird grins in the parking lot earlier,” Emma groaned, pushing the laptop back to David and away from Killian, who was gaining far too much glee from the rest of the comments.

“Oh yes,” Robin nodded solemnly, “we’ve already printed the photo onto t-shirts for everyone to wear with ‘OTP’ emblazoned across it.”

“OT-what now?” said Killian, earning another incredulous look from Emma.

“These rocks you live under don’t give you much Wi-Fi access, do they?”

Mary Margaret stood up to open a window, patting Emma’s shoulder on the way. “If it makes you feel any better, a couple of people left comments on the photo of Killian and David, too.”

“Bromance buds for life,” said David, blowing him a kiss.

Killian chuckled. “Aye, our ship name can be ‘Killvid’.”

“Just so you know, traitors,” said Robin huffily, folding his arms, “I loved Dave first.”

They all settled back into work mode when Regina entered the room. Emma felt the familiar nudge of a notebook against her arm and glanced down. _Shall we go halves in a bulk order of t-shirts?_

She counted to five before throwing a blueberry mini muffin at his head.

* * *

It was just on a month-and-a-half when Emma and Killian were summoned to a meeting in Regina’s office and told they were going to co-write episode five together.

“It’s a good one to ease you both in,” she explained, sipping at her black coffee. “Less high stakes storylines and more character-based plots to get you more familiar with everyone’s dialogue.” She raised an eyebrow at how quiet they’d both become. “A touch more enthusiasm wouldn’t go astray.”

“Sorry, no, that’s amazing news,” Emma stammered, shaking her head. “I’m just surprised we get a chance this early. At my last job I didn’t get offered a script until the end of the season.”

Killian nodded. “Aye, same goes for me. But we’re definitely up for the challenge, aren’t we, Swan? Team OTP is on the case,” he said with an exaggerated wink.

Emma gave him a withering look. “You still have no idea what that means, do you?”

“No clue!” he grinned.

“Delightful,” said Regina dryly. “The first draft’s due in at the end of the week for editing so I suggest you two get cracking.”

They exited the office with a hard copy each of the story outline for episode five and scripts from the previous four. Killian began to stride down the hall, voicing his plans for lunch when he noticed Emma wasn’t beside him. “Swan?” he asked, a hint of concern at her stilled figure. “Everything alright? I apologize if that quip was uncalled for in front of Regina, I was just mucking about.”

“Huh?” Emma replied abruptly, snapping her head up from the pile of paper in her hands. “No, it’s fine, it’s not that.” She gnawed at her bottom lip as Killian returned to stand next to her, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

“What is it then, love?” he asked kindly.

Emma reverently traced her finger over the front page where their names had been typed. “I suppose I’m just not used to good things happening to me,” she admitted, giving him half a smile. “My old job wasn’t the best environment and now getting to work here and scoring an early script it’s just… _Nice_.”

He rubbed his thumb over the leather of her jacket before dropping his hand. “Well, may I just say, Swan, that you deserve all the nice things given to you and then some.”

Her mouth tipped up in a more convincing smile. “Thank you.” She nudged his arm with her elbow. “Same goes for you, Jones.”

“Much obliged,” he grinned, chuckling when he heard his stomach rumble. “Now, as I was saying moments ago, I believe a hearty lunch is in order before we tackle this beast.”

Emma fell into step beside him as they continued down the hall. “And by ‘hearty’ you mean grilled cheese and onion rings, right?”

“Precisely.”

* * *

It was nearing midnight on the second evening of Emma and Killian’s scriptwriting jaunt when they realized they were the only ones left in the building.

Emma shoved her hair up in a ponytail to get it off her neck, rubbing under her glasses at her tired eyes. “I don’t know about you,” she yawned, “but I didn’t expect a writer-all-nighter to arrive this early.”

Lifting his bleary gaze away from his laptop screen, Killian nodded. “We just need to hit halfway and then we can rest.” He scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “Or pass out from sleep deprivation, whatever comes first.”

Sipping her energy drink, Emma considered the scene they’d just hashed out between Rapunzel and Flynn. “Do you think the dialogue needs a bit more pizazz?”

“Which part do you mean?”

“Well, this section here,” she replied, highlighting the dialogue on her screen so the edit showed up on Killian’s. “Flynn’s getting too many of the one-liners. Rapunzel’s a smart, witty character too and I think the scene should reflect that.”

Killian perused the dialogue, nodding along. “Good catch, Swan. Let’s amend it.”

“That’s it?” Emma said in surprise. “You’re not going to object? Protest about your right to literary freedom?”

“Why would I do that?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “You brought up a perfectly valid point and I agree with you.” Killian rummaged around the half-empty bag of Skittles. “Not to mention this is my first full-length TV script and I wish to do the both of us proud,” he added, popping the candy into his mouth.

“Oh.” She blinked at him, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Cool.”

Killian cocked his head to the side, watching her as she played around with a few lines. “Is this what you meant the other day by your previous workplace not being the greatest of environments?” he asked carefully.

Emma’s hands hovered over the laptop keys before she lifted her head to offer him a rueful smile. “Pretty much. Let’s just say that my old writing partner was a bit of an egotistical ass and he didn’t know how to compromise.”

“I hope you gave him hell,” said Killian, chuckling when Emma nodded in satisfaction.

“Oh yeah,” she said, raising her can of drink in a cheers motion. “I got my shots in.”

Another hour passed before Emma could feel her eyes drooping shut. “I’m gonna have to call it a night, Jones,” she said, battling with a yawn. “We have to come back here for a meeting in the morning in, like,” she groaned, looking at her watch, “you don’t even want to know.”

“Aye,” Killian replied, saving his work and shutting down his laptop. “Some of us require our beauty sleep.”

“I don’t know if that’s a dig or a compliment,” she smirked, putting her own laptop into her satchel.

He grinned at her. “A compliment of course, darling. The sun and moon themselves are dull in comparison to your striking allure.”

“Such wonderful prose,” Emma retorted, clutching at her heart. “Are you able to give me a ride home, Shakespeare? My car’s still in the shop.”

Killian bowed at her. “Of course, milady. Shall I also compare thee to a summer’s day, because thou art quite hot.” He grinned when Emma snorted and stuck her finger up at him. “Now, now, Swan,” he tsked, trailing after her as they left the room. “I believe the phrase is ‘do you bite your thumb’ not ‘do you flip the bird’…”

* * *

“Our last writer-all-nighter,” mused Killian, settling himself in at the desk of the small office they’d come to call home for the past week. “Are you ready, Swan?”

Emma rolled her shoulders and opened up the script document on her laptop. “If by ready you mean ‘my blood has turned into caffeine and I don’t know how to function as a regular human being anymore’, then yes. I’m ready.”

“Last call at the diner is at 3am,” he said, taking a long gulp of his coffee. “Do you think we’ll be done in time for celebratory pancakes?”

She gave him a determined nod. “Pancakes or die.”

* * *

Killian paced around the room, tossing a stress ball between his hands, while Emma lay flat out on her back on top of the desk.

“All I’m saying is that Rapunzel would be wary about giving away too much of herself to Flynn,” said Emma, swinging her legs off the side of the table. “They’ve only known each other for a short time, remember, and the speech should reflect that.”

“I’m not discounting that, Swan,” Killian replied, throwing the ball higher up into the air before catching it again. “But they’ve just had their moment near the singing willow, so I think it’s worth exploring their connection a bit deeper.”

Emma screwed up her nose in thought. “I guess we could each write up this part separately and then find a happy medium?”

“Or even a semi-cheerful psychic will do,” said Killian, hiding a smirk when he heard Emma groan. “Oh come on, that’s quite clever for this late hour.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” she muttered, shaking her head fondly as she sat up.

* * *

“Swan, what’s the name of the thing?” said Killian, running his hand through his already-messy hair.

Emma spared him a glance from the opposite end of the desk. “What thing?”

“You know,” he replied, clicking his fingers. “The _thing_.”

She frowned. “Gee, that’s a whole lot clearer, thank you.”

Killian sighed at his own lack of brain function, picking up his coffee cup and pouting when there was no liquid to be found inside. “Rapunzel’s thing with the, the long part and the,” he gestured in a circle in the air, “round section.”

Emma clamped down her lips to keep from laughing. “Do you mean a _frying pan_?”

“That’s the one!” he whooped, typing the words onto his keyboard with a flourish.

“I have to say, it’s so nice to see true wordsmith at work.”

“You’ll keep, Swan.”

* * *

Emma leaned wearily against the side of the vending machine in the office hallway while Killian pressed numbers and letters in a haphazard fashion.

“Do you think Regina will care if the characters suddenly start saying ‘blah blah blah’ to each other for a couple of pages?” Emma wondered, feeling the dull thud of a headache blooming at the back of her skull.

Killian huffed out a short laugh, waiting for their candy to drop. “Perhaps we could throw a few song lyrics in instead?”

“What, like ‘part of your world’ or something?” Emma chuckled.

“Or a few 80s power ballads,” Killian added, stooping down to retrieve their food. “Snow White meets Whitesnake?”

“Genius,” mocked Emma, frowning when Killian handed her a package. “Why does my Snickers look suspiciously like a granola bar?”

“I must have pressed the wrong number combination,” he sighed, fishing around his jacket for more change. “Let me try again.”

Emma found her own coins in her jeans pocket, gently pushing him out of the way. “Here, let me. At least it wasn’t an apple. Then the friendship would _really_ be over.”

* * *

Fuelled by adrenaline and the souls of a few hundred dearly departed candy bars, Emma typed in the final line of the episode on her laptop before letting out an elated shout of glee. “The! Goddamn! End!”

Laughing, they both stood up and cheered, Killian sweeping Emma up in his arms and spinning her around. “We did it, Swan!” he yelled in celebration, nearly tipping them both of them over with his twirling. “We conquered the beast!”

“I can’t believe it’s done!” Emma grinned, holding onto Killian’s arms as he came to a standstill. “I mean I know we’re in for some serious editing and re-writing, but… we did it!”

He beamed back at her. “What did I tell you on our very first day? We make a most _excellent_ team.”

“Yeah,” she replied, her smile transforming into something a little softer around the edges. “We really do.”

Killian gazed at her, swallowing roughly as his eyes fell to her lips. “I’m glad I had you with me on this journey, Swan,” he said quietly, running his hand along the small of her back.

Keeping her eyes trained on his, Emma rose up on her tiptoes, feeling the shaky exhale of his warm breath on her lips before she closed the distance and kissed him. Shutting her eyes, Emma sank deeper into the kiss, sighing when Killian responded eagerly, his tongue sliding against hers with fervor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling one of his hands slide up to tangle in the back of her hair, the other finding the small strip of skin where her sweater had ridden up, the stroke of his fingers eliciting a shiver from both of them.

Emma reluctantly broke away first, Killian’s mouth chasing hers as she rested their foreheads together. “That was…” he murmured.

“Nice,” Emma said on a happy sigh, licking her lips.

“I can definitely think of a few more words than that,” he teased, leaning back just enough to see her grin.

“Well,” she began, their bodies moving in a gentle side-to-side sway, as they remained entwined with one another. “As someone once told me, I deserve nice things. And that,” she said, stroking her thumb against the scar on his cheek, “was definitely one of them.”

Killian smiled. “This person sounds very wise if you ask me.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And extraordinarily handsome, but that’s just a hunch I have.”

“Oh yeah,” Emma nodded along in a teasing manner, “the unwashed hair and the ‘we’ve gone beyond the point of any o’clock’ shadow he calls a beard is really a selling point.” She laughed as Killian surged forward and kissed her cheek, making sure to scratch his beard against her face.

“Speaking of the time,” he smirked, “I do believe we just made the curfew for pancakes at the diner.” He let his arms fall to his side before holding out the crook of his elbow for her. “What’s say we triple save our work then ingest even more sugar?”

Smiling broadly, Emma linked her arm with his. “It’s a date. I’m assuming you’re going to order your pancakes with a side of anchovies, right?”

“I’m not going to ever live that down, am I?”

“Not if I can help it.”

_The! Goddamn! End!_


End file.
